The Two of Us
by thetravelinglemon
Summary: It's surprising how songs by the Carpenters can summarise Sherlock's feelings. Songs used as prompts and chapter headings, though the lyrics are included at the beginning. Johnlock, with some initial hints of Sherlock/Victor. Rating for drugs and suicide attempt. AU.
1. Masquerade

**Here's a random idea I had about the similarity of some of Sherlock's feelings and the Carpenters' songs. So each chapter is prompted by a different song, though I'm not going to try to write the song lyrics or titles into the actual chapter, because that kind of thing annoys me a bit. Hope you like it.**

Masquerade

Are we really happy with  
This lonely game we play  
Looking for the right words to say  
Searching but not finding  
Understanding anyway  
We're lost in this masquerade

Both afraid to say we're just too far away  
From being close together from the start  
We tried to talk it over  
But the words got in the way  
We're lost inside this lonely game we play

Thoughts of leaving disappear  
Each time I see your eyes  
And no matter how hard I try  
To understand the reason  
Why we carry on this way  
And we're lost in this masquerade

...

Sherlock wasn't entirely sure why he and Victor still lived together when their relationship had fizzled out long ago. They weren't compatible with each other, though it had taken them a stupid amount of time to work it out.

He didn't know why they didn't just separate, but he guessed that it might be something to do with the hold Victor had over Sherlock. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, probably something to do with Victor being Sherlock's first, but both Sherlock and Victor knew it was there. Plus, Victor seemed to like having Sherlock around – he was attractive, and always compliant when Victor wanted sex, and generally did as he was told.

Sherlock used to care for him, but now...now he couldn't stand the sight of him; not with the way he'd been used and abused by someone he cared for. He was tired of going round in circles and forever pretending about how he felt.

While Victor was out, Sherlock packed his belongings, wrote a note and left, taking a black cab to Mycroft's house. He didn't like depending on his brother, but he was intelligent enough not to let his pride get in the way of a sensible decision.


	2. I know I need to be in love

**Thank you for your review Marye. Here's the next chapter:**

I know I need to be in love

The hardest thing I've ever done  
Is keep believing  
There's someone in this crazy world  
For me  
The way that people come and go  
Through temporary lives  
My chance could come and I might never know

I used to say "No promises,  
Let's keep it simple"  
But freedom only helps you say  
Good-bye  
It took a while for me to learn  
That nothing comes for free  
The price I've paid is high enough for me

I know I need to be in love  
I know I've wasted too much time  
I know I ask perfection of  
A quite imperfect world  
And fool enough to think that's what I'll find

So here I am with pockets full of good intentions  
But none of them will comfort me tonight  
I'm wide awake at four a.m.  
Without a friend in sight  
Hanging on a hope but I'm alright

I know I need to be in love  
I know I've wasted too much time  
I know I ask perfection of  
A quite imperfect world  
And fool enough to think that's what I'll find

...

Sherlock didn't know what he was doing, he really didn't.

He was sitting on the steps in Trafalgar Square. It was 4am.

It was a week since he'd left Victor, and he'd heard nothing from him. He'd been managing fine until now.

Sherlock had needed a walk. Needed to get away from Mycroft, away from the staff who just seemed to pity him. So he'd put on his coat and scarf and left.

That was 9 hours ago. He'd spent the time wandering round London, enjoying being among people who knew nothing about him and didn't really care. He needed to think, and he couldn't do that with Mycroft watching, so he'd been thinking while he wandered the streets. Thinking about how he would probably never see Victor again, how he was pleased at that idea (then surprised that he was pleased).

He had no idea where his life was going. He'd probably have to get a job and a place to live. Start building a life for himself.

Sherlock sighed and was glad when there was no-one there to question his sigh.

He'd spent about an hour thinking about how much he wanted someone. Not anyone specific, just _someone_; a friend, a lover, a father, a mother, a brother - someone who would support him without pity in their eyes, and would spend time with him, appreciating him for who he was. But that was expecting too much from the broken world he lived in.

Then he'd seen the young lad, skulking in the shadows and clearly waiting for someone. The way he held his coat had caught Sherlock's interest.

A minute later he was walking away, poorer in money, but richer in something else.

Sherlock had never been adverse to experimenting with his own body, and he deemed this to be an excellent opportunity to take his mind off his emotions. He spent the next half hour 'experimenting' with cocaine.

He arrived back at Mycroft's at 7am, high as a kite and surprisingly cheerful (that is, surprising because of his emotional state, not because of the cocaine). Mycroft had turned a blind eye, hoping it was merely a one off occurrence.

A week later, Sherlock moved out into a small flat in a fairly rough area – he couldn't afford any better. He didn't bother looking for a job; he just looked to cocaine as the solution for silencing the pinings of his heart.

**I've created a poll on my profile page, so feel free to have a look **


	3. Goodbye to love

**I always thought this song was very appropriate for Sherlock.**

Goodbye to love

I'll say goodbye to love  
No one ever cared if I should live or die  
Time and time again the chance for love has passed me by  
And all I know of love is how to live without it  
I just can't seem to find it

So I've made my mind up  
I must live my life alone  
And though it's not the easy way  
I guess I've always known

I'd say goodbye to love  
There are no tomorrows for this heart of mine  
Surely time will lose these bitter memories  
And I'll find that there is someone to believe in  
And to live for something I could live for

All the years of useless search  
Have finally reached an end  
Loneliness and empty days will be my only friend  
From this day love is forgotten  
I'll go on as best I can

What lies in the future is a mystery to us all  
No one can predict the wheel of fortune as it falls  
There may come a time when I will see that I've been wrong  
But for now this is my song

And it's goodbye to love  
I'll say goodbye to love

...

Sherlock was fed up, fed up of feeling alone, of wanting someone. He was fed up of having feelings at all.

Because no-one was going to come; no-one ever does.

He was going to spend the rest of his life yearning for someone who would never come, and fending off the boredom the only way he knew how – with drugs.

He'd tried most of the drugs available to him – ecstasy, heroin, cocaine, alcohol, tobacco, and more; even custom made mixes. They only took the edge off temporarily before he was brought crashing down to reality. And Sherlock was sick of it.

He now fully recognised how unlovable he was, how no-one would want him, could want him, even as a friend, never mind anything more. He began to believe that he was one of the accidents of the universe – everyone had someone to love, or was loved by someone, or had friends or family, or even a pet. But Sherlock had none of them – he refused to believe his family cared for him – and felt he had no place in the world.

He lifted his glass in a bitter toast "to the world, to life, to love", before gulping down some tablets, washed down by the strange concoction. Then he lifted the syringe and injected its contents into his already prepared arm. Two other syringes followed, and he sat back on the sofa, waiting for the numbness to come, then the darkness. Sherlock knew his heart had died inside him, and that his body only had to follow.


	4. Only Yesterday

Only Yesterday

After long enough of being alone  
Everyone must face their share of loneliness  
In my own time nobody knew  
The pain I was going through  
And waiting was all my heart could do

Hope was all I had until you came  
Maybe you can't see how much you mean to me  
You were the dawn breaking the night  
The promise of morning light  
Filling the world surrounding me  
When I hold you

Baby, baby, feels like maybe, things will be all right  
Baby, baby, your love's made me  
Free as a song, singing forever

Only yesterday when I was sad and I was lonely  
You showed me the way to leave the past and all its tears behind me  
Tomorrow maybe even brighter than today  
Since I threw my sadness away  
Only yesterday

I have found my home here in your arms  
Nowhere else on earth I'd really rather be  
Life waits for us, share it with me  
The best is about to be  
So much is left for us to see  
When I hold you

Baby, baby, feels like maybe, things will be all right  
Baby, baby, your love's made me  
Free as a song, singing forever

Only yesterday when I was sad and I was lonely  
You showed me the way to leave the past and all its tears behind me  
Tomorrow maybe even brighter than today  
Since I threw my sadness away  
Only yesterday

...

Sherlock wasn't really sure what had happened: one minute he was in his flat having just tried to end his own life, the next he was waking up in a private hospital room that stank of disinfectant and was hooked up to all sorts of tubes, his brain not awake enough to know which tube did what.

And there was a doctor standing by his bed speaking softly; something about not worrying and about going back to sleep. Well for once, Sherlock wouldn't argue.

The same doctor was there almost every time he woke up – the doctor with the blonde hair, and the kind smile. Sherlock knew they were keeping him sedated until the drugs left his system, but for some reason he didn't mind as long as the kind doctor was looking after him.

o

He knew when the sedative had worn off because the next time he woke up his brain wasn't fuzzy and was clearly fully functioning. The doctor wasn't there, but Sherlock knew he would come if he waited. Sure enough, the door opened a couple of minutes later to let in the nameless blonde doctor.

"Hello Sherlock, how are you feeling?"

"You should know – you're the doctor." Sherlock snapped. He was expecting a frown, but instead was rewarded with a smile.

"Clearly back to yourself again, then."

"Hmm."

"Want me to stay for a bit?"

"You have other patients."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't spare you any time." The doctor took the silence as an affirmative and sat down on the chair. Sherlock was expecting some lecture about self harm or self worth, but instead was pleasantly surprised.

"These bloody chairs make my back ache. Right, I'm Doctor John Watson, since you probably don't know." He pointed to his name badge, and Sherlock felt a rush of annoyance at himself for not noticing it.

"Yes. Normally I would have observed by now."

"Observed?"

"I notice things, things that the rest of the stupid world misses."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like the way you paused to check your phone before entering my room; doctors shouldn't really check their phones while on duty so it must be important, maybe some important news you're waiting for or, most likely, someone you're checking up on. I saw you slip the phone into your pocked as you came in; rather a feminine phone, don't you think? You seemed a bit awkward with it, so it's new to you, but not new completely – there was a small bit of colour missing from the back. Add those two pieces of information together and the most logical conclusion is that the previous owner of that phone is a close family member, probably a sister, and that you also have a close family member who is ill and frequently requires your assistance, and that they are quite possibly one and the same person." He stopped, waiting for John to leave, or recoil, or insult him.

"That was impressive."

Sherlock blinked.

"I beg your pardon."

"That was brilliant – it was really clever."

"Oh. That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off."

John's face broke into a grin and he chuckled, and Sherlock found himself unable to resist doing the same.

o

Whenever John was on duty, he'd come in and spend a few minutes with Sherlock, sometimes waiting until he was off duty so he could stay longer.

When he breached the forbidden topic of a therapist, Sherlock flatly refused to see one and, in desperation, John ended up giving him his own phone number, just so he had someone to talk to. This surprised Sherlock by the obvious genuineness of it, and he wasted no time in texting John once he'd left.

_Hello John. SH_

_Hello Sherlock. You like to text then? J_

_It's preferable to calling because no pleasantries are required. SH_

_And yet you said hello to me. J_

_Well you're different. SH_

_I am? J_

_Yes – you didn't have my number so didn't know who was contacting you. I wanted to provide you with my number but didn't really have anything to say – hello seemed appropriate. SH_

_Urm, thanks? J_

_You're welcome. SH_

John smiled and shook his head at his exacerbating new...friend, he seemed to have become.

_When can I leave hospital? SH_

_When I'm confident you won't overdose as soon as you get home. J_

_I need something else to occupy my mind then. SH_

_You mean a job or a hobby? J_

_Anything to stop my brain from rotting. SH_

_I'll look for something. I presume it has to be science related? J_

_You presume correctly for once, well done. SH_

_:P J_

_What is that? SH_

_It's an emoticon. J_

_What is it doing in my inbox? SH_

_I was showing how I felt through facial expressions, like I'd do if I was there. J_

_You don't stick your tongue out at me. SH_

_Maybe I should try it to see your reaction. If I was there I'd do something between a sigh and a frown. J_

_Now I know what facial expression you mean, I understand how you are feeling. SH_

_:) SH_

_You daft sod. J_

_I'll take that as a form of endearment and respond accordingly. SH_

_:) SH_

John sighed and smiled.

_Good night Sherlock. J_

_Good night John. S_

Sherlock put his phone on the bedside table and turned out the light. Unless they knew him really well it would have been impossible for anyone to notice how happy he was.


	5. Close to You

Close To You

Why do birds suddenly appear,

Every time you draw near?

Just like me, they long to be,

Close to you.

Why do stars fall down from the sky,

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be,

Close to you.

On the day that you were born the angels got together,

And decided to create a dream come true,

So they sprinkled moondust in your hair,

And golden starlight in your eyes of blue.

That is why all the girls in town,

Follow you all around.

Just like me, they long to be,

Close to you.

...

_Why haven't you visited today? S_

_Patience is a virtue, Sherlock. You'll see. J_

_I don't care for proverbs – they offer very little assistance in life. S_

_Of course you'd think that. I'm coming later – I can't now. J_

_Why? S_

_Because I'm busy. J_

_Busy with what? S_

_None of your business. J_

_Busy with what, John? S_

_None of your bloody business, Sherlock. J_

Sherlock sighed and put his phone on the bedside table, then picked up his book. He skim read the page before sighing again and turning to the next one. As interesting as the communication system of bees may be, he was still bored. He jigged his left leg up and down on the bed and sighed over dramatically, before picking up his phone.

_John. S_

_What? J_

_I'm bored. S_

_What about that book? J_

_It's interesting. S_

_Good. J_

_Wait, how are you bored if the book is interesting? J_

_You haven't visited yet today, and hospital is tedious. S_

_I've said I'll come when I can. Be patient. J_

_Patience is boring. S_

_Of course it is, silly me. J_

_No need to self-depreciate. Not everyone is as intelligent as me. S_

_If I knew who to thank for that, believe me, I'd be thanking them right now. Repeatedly. J_

_I thought you admired my intelligence. S_

_I do, I just don't admire how childish it can make you sometimes. J_

_:( S_

_Please don't use emoticons. J_

_Why not? S_

_Because it doesn't suit you. J_

_But if I actually frown, no-one of importance can see me. S_

_I'll come by later and you can frown at me then. J_

_Good. S_

Sherlock managed to engross himself in his book for a full fifteen minutes.

_Bored. S_

_I know. I'm on my way. J_

_You should already be here. S_

_Should I now? J_

_Yes, that's what I just said. S_

_Never mind. J_

_Never mind what? S_

_Never mind everything. J_

_I've tried that, it didn't go very well. S_

_Just...forget I said anything, okay? J_

_You haven't said anything – we've been texting. S_

_Bloody hell! J_

A minute passed

_Why weren't you here sooner? S_

_I had a date. J_

_I don't know why you bothered: it's not like it will work. S_

_How can you possibly know that? J_

_You spent most of your time texting me. S_

_Bastard. J_

_I feel I must inform you that my parents were married. S_

_You ridiculous sod. J _

Five minutes later, Sherlock heard the door opening and glanced up, smiling with a mere quirk of the lips when he was confronted with John's sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.


	6. Ticket to ride

Ticket to ride

I think I'm gonna be sad,  
I think it's today, yeah.  
The boy that's driving me mad  
Is going away.

He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
And he don't care.

He said that living with me  
Was bringing him down, yeah.  
For he would never be free  
When I was around.

He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
And he don't care.

I don't know why he's riding so high,  
He oughta do right,  
He oughta do right by me.  
Before he gets to saying goodbye,  
He oughta so right,  
He oughta do right by me.

I think I'm gonna be sad,  
I think it's today yeah.  
The boy that's driving me mad  
Is going away, yeah...

He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
He's got a ticket to ride,  
And he don't care  
My baby don't care

...

Sherlock had been home from the hospital for two months. Two months of Mrs Hudson's tea and biscuits, Mycroft's condescending visits, Lestrade and Molly's encouraging texts, and visits from John.

Even though Sherlock had been assigned a counsellor to see once a week, and was therefore no longer one of John's patients, the doctor still visited at least that frequently; in fact, Sherlock only went to his counselling appointments because John threatened to not visit that week unless he did.

The two had become friends, though the relationship was a bit unusual; Sherlock would badger John with texts while he was at work, and later John would reply, and visit if he didn't have a shift, or a date. Whenever John visited he'd bring food, often a takeaway, to encourage Sherlock to eat, and because he didn't know if Sherlock would eat that day if he didn't.

Sometimes, Sherlock would spend the whole visit in silence, doing an experiment, or sitting thinking, ignoring whatever John might say or do. On days like that, John wondered if Sherlock even noticed he'd been there (and he had noticed, thank you very much), but the doctor didn't mind, because Sherlock was obviously still recovering, and his visits seemed to help that. Other times, Sherlock would talk non-stop; he'd ramble on at 500 miles an hour, about things John had no idea about, sometimes deciding that john was an idiot and other times deciding he was a genius. On days like that, John couldn't even try to keep up with Sherlock's brain processes, but he let his friend talk, because it was obviously helping his healing.

Typically, these were the kind of texts John would receive when he turned his phone back on after a shift:

_Mrs Hudson brought me tea and told me to clean the flat. I'm too busy to clean, so you should do it when you get here. SH_

_Lestrade called and said I could look at some case files if I wanted, so I told him to send one of his minions round with it, as long as the minion isn't Anderson or Donovan. SH_

_It would appear that blood cells exposed to microwaves don't behave in a very different manner to those who haven't. I will repeat the experiment to check reliability. SH_

_Why do you have a job, John? It's so tedious of you. SH_

_Lestrade did send Donovan, giving the excuse that no-one else was available. I took the files and shut the door in her face – I didn't have time for her talk. SH_

_John, why haven't you finished your shift yet? SH_

_John, I'm bored. SH_

_John. SH_

_John. SH_

_John. SH_

When the texts had degenerated into just '_John. SH_', which they didn't always but did sometimes, John would go straight from work, stopping off somewhere to get food on the way.

_I'm on my way, Sherlock. Getting Indian takeaway for dinner. JW_

...

This went on for another two months, after which Sherlock found himself relying on John more than he'd relied on anyone for a very long time. After realising this, he sat down in his favourite `chair for a few hours, and thought about his dependence on John. He came to a conclusion: his dependence was based on a lack of any other 'friends' in his life, and the fact that John had aided his recovery in hospital. And the feelings he had for John? Well, it would seem that there was a distinct potential for them to grow into romance, or attraction. Since Sherlock had never really felt this before, and therefore didn't really know what to do, he decided to continue on as before, and wait for developments. After all, it was highly unlikely that John would have romantic feelings for Sherlock (though Sherlock knew, if John suggested they try a 'relationship', he would not hesitate to say yes).

There was, however, one proposition Sherlock still intended to make.

_You should move in with me. SH_

John frowned at his phone: he was on his break, and didn't quite know what to make of this message.

_I beg your pardon. JW_

_My pardon is given, though no need to beg. I mean you should move into the flat above mine. SH_

_Right. Why? JW_

_It is empty, Mrs Hudson is looking for a new lodger, she likes you, I get bored, the rent would be cheaper. Need I go on? SH_

_No, no I think that list is quite enough. JW_

_And? SH_

_And I'll consider it. JW_

_It should not take too much consideration since the logical conclusion is that you should move in with me. SH_

_I said I'll think about it, Sherlock. Now my break's over, so I have to get back to work. Would you like Moroccan or Chinese for dinner?_

_Moroccan. If you bring it. SH_

_Of course I will you sod. See you later. JW_

...

John moved in a couple of weeks later, around the same time as he signed up to the army as a medic. It wouldn't be long before John had finished training, and was shipped out on a tour of duty in Northern Ireland, or Afghanistan, or Iraq, or somewhere else similarly war-ravaged.

John was looking forward to it, but Sherlock wasn't. The idea of John in danger such as that, where Sherlock couldn't help defend him, was not appealing. The detective couldn't help but wonder if it was his fault; if John had got sick of him and wanted an excuse to leave; if John hadn't really wanted to move in; worst of all, if John had guessed Sherlock's feelings, and didn't reciprocate.

It seemed to Sherlock as if he and John had the potential for a relationship, but John didn't want it, and didn't care.

And that cut Sherlock to the core.

...

**Sorry for such a long break – life got ridiculous, but things are getting a bit better now, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently.**

**I didn't quite take the whole meaning of the song, but I took most of it and where I could.**

**Hope you liked it **** all reviews welcome, even if it's just pointing out a typo **


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